Then a second time they threw open the door, and a second time those two young Englishmen at the head of the faithful few charged out on the guns.  But for Jenkyns the glorious end had come, and sword in hand he fell, some seventy paces out, a lasting honour to the great Civil Service of India.  Yet on went Hamilton and his dwindling band, and taking no denial, stayed not by bullet nor sword nor bayonet, again captured the guns.  And then began again the dreadful heart-straining struggle of desperate men set to a task too great.  Again with splendid effort they dragged the guns a few yards, and again the great returning wave engulfed them, and fighting foot by foot the Guides were again driven back.

And now the flames had got strong hold of the buildings, and here and there the roofs fell in, and dead and dying were entombed together.  So the few survivors driven from end to end found last refuge in the hamam, or bath, which, being below the surface of the ground and built of solid brick, gave welcome shelter.  But even so death was but a question of hours or minutes, and neither Hamilton nor his men were of the sort to sit tamely down to wait for it.  Taking rest for awhile from the exhaustion of seven hours of this Homeric struggle, the undefeated Hamilton again laid his plans.  “Now two or three,” said he, “will fire from here, so as to try to keep down the fire on our assaulting party, while the rest dash out again.  Arrived at the guns, I alone will face the enemy, while all of you, paying no heed to the fighting, will harness yourselves to one gun and bring it in.  We shall then, at least, have one gun less against us, and may perhaps be able to use the captured one in defence.  Then, in the same way, we will again charge out, and get the other gun.”  “Your Honour speaks well, we are ready,” said his men.

This was the fourth sortie Hamilton had led that day; the first with all four Englishmen in a line, the second with three, the third with two, and now alone.  Over six feet in height, splendidly made, lithe and strong, with all the activity of youth, expert with sword and pistol, he was a noble specimen of the British officer, and none more fit than he to stand in the deadly breach.  Out then they went and acted on the plan arranged.  For a third time those fateful guns were captured, and then alone to stem the fierce assault stood Hamilton, while his men laboured at the gun; but the odds were too great, and the gallant subaltern, after killing three men with his pistol and cutting down two more with his sword, was himself borne down.  And so fighting died as brave a young heart as ever did honour to the uniform he wore.  Swarming over his body, the mutineers recaptured the gun and again drove back the remnants of the forlorn hope.  Hamilton lay where he fell close to the gun, till darkening night settled down on the dreadful scene.  But when, next morning, a witness passed that way, he mentions that the brave young fellow’s body was laid across the gun.  Perchance it was the kindly act of a friend, or perchance the rough chivalry of one who had watched his heroic deeds.